


tell you all the time

by bloodmoney



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 00:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodmoney/pseuds/bloodmoney
Summary: They meet each other in every life.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 102
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	tell you all the time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [partypaprika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/gifts).



> happy valentine's!

They meet each other every life, clockwork. They don’t know who the other is, at first, not ever; what they do know is that there’s an immediate pull, a bond that shouldn’t be formed, an understanding that comes easy through light words and lighter touches almost immediately. 

They meet at a symposium, ready to debate and drink. They meet at Epidaurus, listen to tragedies and achieve catharsis. They meet at the Arcadian mountains, klephts. 

This time, they’re at a club in Athens. The music alternates between the top forty hits playlist of foreign artists and remixes and the top forty hits of Greek ones, words and languages taking each other’s place as easily as the beats. Achilles knows, the moment he lays eyes on the cute guy, that he wants to meet him. He also knows, the moment the cute guy meets his gaze, that he wants to know him.

So he does. He abandons his seat and his friends, who will abandon him soon to get to the dancefloor either way, and makes his way to him.

“Achilles,” he shouts over the music once he’s already there, extending a hand. 

The guy raises an eyebrow, shakes it. “Patroclus,” he shouts back.

“My friends dared me to get the number of the cutest person in the room.” That’s a lie. They never did that. “I think it’s you.”

It’s a bold move. Highly possible that it’s the wrong move, too, this is Athens after all. An image of carved wood in the same of a boy playing the lyre flashes in his mind and tells him it’s right. _So right._ He believes it.

Patroclus only grins. The lighting is wrong, but Achilles would swear he blushes. “You’re just saying that because you haven’t seen you. Do you have a pen?”


End file.
